Stuart Kofer provided was the nicest place you ever lived, right?”
Another mistake. Do it, Drew! “No sir. A couple of the foster homes were nicer, plus you didn’t have to worry about gettin’ slapped around.”
Dyer looked at the bench and pleaded, “Your Honor, would you instruct the witness to respond to the questions without expounding on his answers?”
Jake expected a quick response, but Noose mulled it over. Jake stood and said, “Your Honor, if I may. Counsel described the Kofer home as ‘nice’ without defining what that means. I submit that any home where a kid lives with abuse and the threat of more is anything but ‘nice.’ ”
Noose agreed and said, “Please continue.”
Dyer was too stung to continue. He huddled with D. R. Musgrove and they again tried to find a strategy. He nodded smugly, as if he’d found the perfect line of questioning, and returned to the podium.
“Now, Mr. Gamble, I believe you said that you didn’t like Stuart Kofer and he didn’t like you. Is that correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“Would you say you hated Stuart Kofer?”
“That’s fair, yes sir.”
“Did you want to see him dead?”
“No sir. What I wanted was just to get away from him. I was tired of him beatin’ my mother and slappin’ us around. I was tired of the threats.”
“So when you shot him, you were killing him to protect your mother and sister and yourself, right?”
“No sir. At the time, I knew my mother was dead. It was too late to protect her.”
“Then you shot him out of revenge. For killing your mother. Right?”
“No sir, I don’t remember thinkin’ about revenge. I was too upset at the sight of Mom lying on the floor. I was just afraid that Stuart would get up and come after us, like he did before.”
Come on Dyer, take the bait. Jake was chewing on the tip of a plastic pen.
“Before?” Dyer asked, then caught himself. Never ask a question if you don’t know the answer. “Strike that.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Gamble, that you deliberately and intentionally shot Stuart Kofer, with his own gun, one that you were familiar with, because he beat your mother?”
“No sir.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Gamble, that you deliberately and intentionally shot and killed Stuart Kofer because he was sexually molesting your sister?”
“No sir.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Gamble, that you willfully shot and killed Stuart Kofer because you hated the man and you were hoping that if he were dead, your mother would get to keep his house?”
“No sir.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Gamble, that when you leaned down and put the barrel an inch from his head, that at that crucial moment, Stuart Kofer was sound asleep?”
“I don’t know if he was sound asleep. I know he’d been movin’ around because I heard him. I was afraid he would get up and go crazy again. That’s why I did what I did. To protect us.”
“You saw him asleep in his own bed, and you took his own gun and put it an inch from his left temple, and you pulled the trigger, didn’t you, Mr. Gamble?”
“I guess I did. I’m not sayin’ I didn’t. I’m not sure what I was thinkin’ at that moment. I was so scared and I just knew he had killed my mother.”
“But you were wrong, weren’t you? He didn’t kill your mother. She’s sitting right there.” Dyer turned and pointed an angry finger at Josie in the front row.
Drew summoned his own anger and said, “Well, he tried his best to kill her. She was on the floor, unconscious, and as far as we could tell she wasn’t breathin’. She sure looked dead to us, Mr. Dyer.”
“But you were wrong.”
“And he had threatened to kill her many times, and us too. I thought it was the end.”
“Had you ever thought about killing Stuart before?”
“No sir. I’ve never thought about killin’ anybody. I don’t have guns. I don’t get in fights and stuff like that. I just wanted to leave and get away from that house before he hurt us. Livin’ in a car again was better than livin’ with Stuart.”
Another one of Jake’s lines, perfectly delivered.
“So, when you were in prison, you didn’t get into fights?”
“I wasn’t in prison, sir. I was in a juvenile detention facility. Prison is for adults. You should know that.”
Noose leaned down and said, “Please, Mr. Gamble, hold your comments.”
“Yes sir. Sorry, Mr. Dyer.”
“And you never got into fights?”
“Everybody got into fights. Happened all the time.”
Dyer was treading water and slowly drowning. Arguing with